Fairytales
by End Noesis
Summary: [AU-WIP] Everyone is after Mr. Reed's Clow Book, a collection of fifty-two fairytales, but it can only be claimed by one. *** Cherry Blossom continues on her journey to win over King Reed's subjects and learn a little more about her origins in the process. *** Ch 6: Princess Rain and the Itsy Bitsy Problem.
1. Written in the Stars

**A/N:** Another experimental S+S piece. Blah blah blah, I don't own CCS.

**UPDATE:** I am continuing this as both fanfiction and a original piece. Yay, I'm happy!

Thank you to those who were kind enough to leave a review :)

* * *

Fairytales

It was only a book, she reminded herself. Her teacher, Mr. Reed, had set it upon his mahogany desk for all to admire. It was a fine looking leather-bound book, the kind with the nice gold leafing that made it look extra fancy and antique. There was a beautiful golden lion on its cover with a sun beneath his head, sharp rays of light bent around.

In the last year, Mr. Reed had shared with her preschool class stories of whimsical princesses and princes with names like The Lock, The Dash, and there even was one named The Silent. The Silent was a princess from an old kingdom. The kingdom had long collapsed when another one invaded it, leaving only Princess Silent in its dusty castle. She would pass the time searching for sounds to silent. They hurt her, no matter how quiet they were. The princess would keep a finger lifted to her lips, which were often cloaked along with half of her face with a cape. One day a visitor stumbled into her home with such loud sounds, Sakura thought the visitor would be silenced forever. The visitor, a handsome young man cursed with clumsiness, tripped over himself. At the sight of her, he only laughed and rubbed his injured knee.

"Are you laughing at me?" Princess Silent spoke for the first time in many, many years. It might have even been the first words ever heard from her. Too much time had passed to know for certain.

The young man picked himself up. "No, milady. I only laugh at myself. I came to rescue a princess, but I've already made a fool of myself. How will she take me serious now?"

Ordinarily the princess would touch the audible disturbance and quiet it forever, but she had a change of heart. "What are you rescuing me from, stranger?"

"Yourself." The princess' eyebrows knit into an angry expression. She lifted her silencing finger as if her heart changed its decision again. The young man bit his nails and said, "Knock-knock?"

The finger curled back into the princess' hand. "Who's there?" she heard herself ask.

Silence was the response. They stood a few paces apart, gazing into each other faces trying to understand the strangeness. He broke the silence, to her dismay. "That is the sound of your company. Of nobody to talk to, know, learn, or love."

"Sounds like a bad joke."

"Any sound here is never a bad one."

So the princess let him stay, and she grew to love him and his every sound.

Sakura sighed. That was only one of fifty-two tales her teacher read to them. There were beautiful pictures inside, too, to go with every story. When she was good, he'd let her read it as long as she promised she wouldn't spill apple juice or let crumbs of cheddar goldfish crackers fall into the book gutter, the middle part when opened. The gutter sounded like it was exactly for keeping crumbs and such when reading, but Mr. Reed disagreed. She'd stare at each illustration of the prince and princesses, daydreaming of meeting every single one.

It was a fine day. Mr. Reed announced his fairytale collection was going to be published and would be sold in the local bookstore. Sakura could not believe that she would soon be able to own a Clow Book. She saved the dollar her father gave her that morning for pudding, putting it towards funding her own copy. A little hand searched for it in her overalls' pocket, making sure the crumpled piece of paper was still there, waiting for other green companions to join it. When she had her own copy, she wouldn't need to be extra good anymore. No more additional homework or cleanup duties in class. She could take bites of cheesy saucy slices of pizza as she read about Prince Jump and his quest for the greatest carrot cake in all the fluffy lands. If a hot pepperoni fell on a page to leave a greasy stain, no one could say anything. She'd scoop up said pepperoni and plop it back on its slice to be with its kind in the gooey bed of mozzarella. It was her book after all.

But… it was not the same to own a reproduction. The real thing was opulence. Kind of like a birthday giftbox, covered in metallic wrapping with elaborate designs, the kind of expensive wrapping one would get at a department store, and was expected to carefully unwrap it as to not to harm the exterior. No, no, it was like Pandora's box, except it was filled with good stuff. Instead of things like evil, snobbishness, wet willies, and noogies, it had fairytales, pretty pictures, colors, and dream-fodder. Like the real Pandora Box with the spirit of hope at its bottom, the Clow Book ended with Princess Hope as an unaccounted fifty-third tale in an epilogue to be continued in another book not yet written.

Sakura had heard Yue say the book was gilded in real 24-karat gold. He must have been telling the truth. First off, he never spoke to her in class, and If he did, it was to scold her childishness, even if she and he were in fact only four years of age. Secondly, he never lied. He was the embodiment of honesty and mean, too, because they often were combined in his words. Thirdly, he and his brother Kero were Mr. Reed's sons and his students. Kero was the nicer of the twins. It was easy to tell them apart because they were fraternal – Yue had long silver-like hair and pale blue eyes and Kero had blond shaggy hair and black eyes that sometimes warped to a deep honey. She probably just imagined it. Kero's complexion was darker than that of Yue, as if he spent afternoons lounging in the sun, letting it warm his skin's color. Kero also told her it was a special book, and even they had to follow Mr. Reed's rules.

There was no way a couple of dollars could buy her something as beautiful as Mr. Reed's original. Her money would only afford her a used paperback version, and to come by one like that she'd have to wait for the hardcover to come out first, followed by the paperback, and then _maybe_ she would be lucky to find one at a thrift store or the used book sale at neighborhood library on the first Saturday of each month.

As luck would have it, her teacher had also made a second important announcement that morning: his best student would get the exact copy that sat on his desk. He had made a second one, for his keeping, but the first book, the one he had a pleasure of sharing with his young listeners and readers, was meant for them. Correction, _for one of them._

Sakura's emerald-green eyes darted to the Clow Book that appeared to have a magical aura that drew her close. It was like the warm drift of bakery oven smells, which could make a child with the smallest sweet tooth throw a tantrum and spoil his appetite with a sugary treat. On her tippy-toes, she gripped the edge of the desk so hard her short digits paled at their tiny knuckles. At this enhanced height, she could see the boy on the opposite side of the table, who eyed the book with the same depth of desire. His want sparked in the ambers of his villainous look.

"Don't even think about it," the voice said from his side of the desk.

"'Think about what?" she asked befuddled.

"I know you want Mr. Reed's book, but you can't have it. It's gonna be mine."

The startling conviction in his voice made her lose her grip and balance, together at once. She tumbled back to fall on her bum, the thick corduroy of her hunter green overalls thankfully softening the landing.

From her sitting position on the ground, she could see a pair of denimed-blue legs make their way around the desk. They stopped in front of her and her eyes followed them up to a kid with brown hair tousled by at least ten cowlicks and two ambers burning into her eyes with unknown hatred.

Sakura gulped, and then mustered up enough courage in her belly to speak up for herself. "How do you know you're gonna win it? Didn't you just start like two weeks ago?"

"So what? I've read it three times already and I'm beating everyone in every subject." This new kid was the mysterious enemy Sakura never saw coming, ninja-ing in on her target. Yes, he had glared at her intensely throughout class for the past two weeks, but she thought it was because Mr. Reed always let her answer first whenever their hands shot up in class.

It was not like any favoritism amongst his students could give her an advantage when it came to the Clow Book. It was serious business, decided solely on the number of achievements represented as stars on the bulletin board on the wall nearest the desk. It would only involve the entire month of May, which began three weeks ago. Mr. Reed's nephew Eriol coveted the book as well, to add to his already abundant collection. Eriol's best friends, another set of fraternal twins by the names of Spinel and Nakuru, were cooperating lately, hoping they too could have a chance at winning. Sakura was sure those three were working together. As a triumvirate, they would share the spoils of any one of their victories.

"I'm smarter than you!" Sakura exclaimed, but she lacked the confidence her rival exhibited with every calculated movement. She attempted to pick herself up, only to trip over laces that flew out like two pairs of wild pink snakes from her sneakers.

Pathetically uncoordinated this day, she remained slumped on the carpeted floor of their classroom, her gaze glazing over with tears and momentary hopelessness. The boy bent down to pull at her shoelaces. "Sure, you are."

She couldn't see what he was doing, but he worked over the laces for a few seconds, making loops and twists. Could he really be tying her shoes? He was the one that caused her to lose whatever little coordination she contained. A good rival should mock and point out her weaknesses, not help her regain her foothold.

As she prepared herself to ask, Tomoyo ran over to them. Her long black hair took over Sakura's view as she knelt next to her, checking for injuries. She had a knack for falling all over herself and Tomoyo had a knack for caring for everyone, and Sakura loved her for it. She declared Tomoyo to be her best friend on only their second day of class.

"Sakura, are you okay? Both times looked real bad. See your arm is bleeding!" Tomoyo looked over to the new kid who had finished messing with Sakura's shoes. "Syaoran, could you ask Mr. Reed for a bandage?"

He glanced quickly at both girls. "Sure, but you will tell him that I tied her shoes? That's at least one star, or two."

"Okay. If he doesn't, I can give you one of mine," Tomoyo said.

Syaoran grinned victoriously before running to pull Mr. Reed's sleeve. Their teacher was instructing another new student, Meiling, how to use a pair of safety scissors. Meiling pushed her long pigtails behind her, before cutting out a rough heart shape from orange construction paper.

"He was only after a star," Sakura answered her own question.

Tomoyo stood up and pulled her up. "What?"

The starry bulletin board twinkled at them. Thus far there were three top contenders: Tomoyo with fifteen, Sakura with sixteen, and Syaoran with eighteen. After today, he would probably have at least twenty. Tomoyo's hand comforted her on her shoulder.

"I didn't know you wanted it too, Tomoyo."

"I don't. If I get it, it'll be for you," and with that formed her diarchy to rule together the Clow Book. "And I don't want it at all, so it's all yours either way." Then it would only be _hers_, in a glorious monarchy, _Queen Sakura_, ruler of the Clow Book and all its princesses and princes. It had a nice ring to it.

"Here." Syaoran pressed the adhesive side of the bandage over the small scrape on her forearm, smoothing out the green bandage.

"Thank you," she said, snapping out of the bittersweet daydream.

The boy nodded and put out his arm, palm up, towards her. "That'll be _two_ stars, one per shoe. The bandage is free. Sorry there wasn't any pink ones."

"What! I didn't ask you to tie my shoes!"

"I know you can't tie your own shoes, Kinomoto." He knew her name, but it wasn't that impressive, and neither was his knowledge of her favorite color. Most girls were partial to pinks- whether of the hot or pastel variety- it was a lively color she easily identified with. She was popular amongst their peers in the small preschool class; they all knew each others' names. However, he had noticed her tucking in her pink laces into her shoes after a recess spent in the sandbox. She was too ashamed to ask her best friend or Mr. Reed to tie them for her. "You could have hurt more."

"I can give you two stars, just get them from me," Tomoyo interrupted.

"Okay, but next time, it has to be from her." He motioned to Sakura, who was dumbfounded by how quick he flip-flopped from kind to greedy. He pulled up a blue plastic stool and removed two stars from Tomoyo's row and affixed them next to his name. Tomoyo: thirteen. Syaoran: twenty. Arms on his hips, he admired the generous lead over the class, then jumped off and ran off to a pile of Legos at a corner of the room.

Boys were such a perplexing species. They must have been formed like mini Frankensteins, except with pieces of monsters from horror movies and fairytale villains and Elmer glue. No, _crazy glue_ - that stuff that smelled acrid and could get your fingers stuck together for days. Their mad scientists for parents must have ran out of hearts and brains and threw in rocks for both. "Why does he hate me? He doesn't even know me."

"But he does watch you a lot. Eriol teases him about it and he turns so red he looks like a tomato or a strawberry… Hmm… which one is more red?"

Her eyes met his across the room unexpectedly and before she could divert her gaze to an un-suspicious part of the room, he smiled at her.

Sakura turned to her best friend. "See? He's sooo weird."

"You're both being weird!" Tomoyo covered her mouth with her hands and giggled.

"Tomoyo! You can't be mean to me. That's against the best friend rules." She pouted to make her point.

"Let's go, BFF. It's almost story time. I want to sit up front!"

...O...

The last week of May came and went that year. On its last day, Mr. Reed took role, calling out each name of his preschool class: Sakura, Syaoran, Tomoyo, Meiling, Kero, Yue, Eriol, Spinel, Nakuru, Rika, Takashi, Chiharu, and Naoko. They were all too preoccupied with stars to even notice the names were not in any particular order, alphabetically or otherwise. All they thought of that morning was who would get to take the Clow Book home. Hardly any one of them could count past twenty-five, so it really could have been anyone's victory.

"Winner, come claim your prize," Mr. Reed said. The little students turned to their left and right to their neighbor. Nobody made any sign to stand up and take the book from his hands. Instead, Mr. Reed stood up and placed the book in front of young Sakura, who only looked down at the motley carpet beneath her folded legs. "Sakura?"

"Huh?" Her head tilted upward to face the gold and ruby book cover. "For me?"

"I called out your name first during role call. That was my ranking for the Clow Book." He smiled so big, his eyes almost closed. "Congratulations. Please don't get any pizza sauce on it."

Her small hands reached out for the Clow Book and hugged it tightly against her chest. "Thank you, Mr. Reed! I promise to take good care of it! Promise!" A tear fell and rolled down her plump cheek, and she sniffed, attempting to fight off another.

"B-But-But Mr. Reed," Syaoran interjected, his voice breaking. The self-assurance he once had shattered with every following word. "_I_ had the most stars, I think. _I_ prepared the most to own it. _I_ know your book front and back. _I _was meant to own it."

"What was your favorite fairytale, Sakura?"

"All of them. I loved every single one the same way."

"And you, Syaoran?"

The boy scratched his head. "I don't know. Prince Thunder, maybe? Wolves are my favorite animals."

"I know," Mr. Reed replied. "The true winner must show each prince and princess the same love. It's the only way their stories will go on to be told for many years ahead."

Eriol's hand rose. "Mr. Reed, then why did you make us earn those stars?"

"To make you all good students of course!" He laughed as his students looked aghast to each other. "Your parents will be very proud of how good you all behaved. I'm sure there will be rewards at home for that!"

...O...

For the rest of the day, Sakura read her Clow Book, taking in each image and word in her mind as if she was studying the toughest lessons of her life. In her rule, she would be the kindest queen the kingdom of Clow ever knew, and they would love her until the end of time.

The bell rang to signal the start of recess. She followed her peers into the playground and sat beneath an apple tree to read about Prince Freeze and the Sea of Ice. Little Freeze thought himself a terrible friend, because he could never keep one for long. He'd always freeze them by accident. Until one day, he learned to use his powers to make ice cream and win the friendship of an arctic school of fish passing by. When he'd accidentally turned one into a fish Popsicle, he would drag him over the hot spring he discovered underwater. His friend would thaw and resume the enjoyment of frozen desserts.

A shadow fell over her and said, "Hi." It belonged to her sore-loser of a rival Syaoran. His hair had earned at least two more cowlicks as a runner-up prize.

Sakura slammed the book shut and secured it close to her with both arms. "You can't have it. I won it."

"Not fair and square," he said. "But I'm not here to take it away from you."

The book slipped into her lap as the tension of her hold let up. "What do you want, Syaoran?"

"Hey, brat!" a voice called out, and a blonde blur whooshed next to him. "It's not yours! Buy your own one!" Kero was an inch or two shorter, but the hostility in his voice made him out a lot bigger than he appeared.

"It's okay, Kero. He's not trying to steal it."

Kero composed himself, but maintained a steady dark glare on Syaoran. "Okay, but my brother and I will keep an eye out for you, Sakura. Just to make sure there is no trouble here. Right, Yue?"

Yue stepped out from behind the tree. "Whatever," he replied, before returning to read a book several years above their reading level. The brothers had been tailing her all day, without her even realizing it. It must have been Mr. Reed's bidding, because the quieter of the brothers, Yue, hardly ever acknowledged her. Yue, ever-so-observant continued, "In case you're wondering, yes, our pop made us your personal bodyguards."

"Shut up, Yue. She doesn't need to hear that." The brothers went off together, Kero looking back at Sakura and Syaoran with doubt. Sakura was sure that he would spring to her rescue if needed, even if their father had not asked this of him. Kero was a true guardian. In her Clow Kingdom, Kero would sit in the right hand seat as her highest ranking man, next to the nonexistent King. Yue could tend to the royal library, and Tomoyo would be the royal stylist since she was very good at coloring and accessorizing.

Syaoran took a step nearer, and at this, Sakura's fingers tightened around her book. "Can you- can you please read my favorite chapter?" the boy asked.

"You want me to read to you?"

A blush reddened his face to the shade of a… _Rome apple_, like the ones that bobbed above her on fertile branches. "Yes, _please_? You should know out of all people how good of a story it is."

Her lips spread in a wide smile to reveal a missing front milk tooth. "Prince Thunder is cool. He has a bad temper, but he is good inside. Is that like you?"

"I think so." He joined her, so his hip met hers side-by-side in the soft, overgrown grass. Sakura placed the Clow Book over their laps, and began to read the tale of the Angry Little Wolf in the Thunder Country.

Each day after, the little wolf met up with the cherry blossom under an apple tree and read another story. They got to know a little about each other's world, and one day the little wolf decided that he would make a fitting king in the cherry blossom's kingdom.

She agreed and they lived happily ever after.

...O...

"Queen Amber," the right-hand man-lion addressed, "and your King Emerald." Fifty-two princesses and princes in regal attire stood to welcome the face of the new king of the Clow Kingdom.

"My queen-wife, don't you think such names would confuse our readers-subjects?" Once upon a time, the queen-wife's eyes shone like emeralds and his, his were warm ambers. A fateful day chasing after Prince Change left its temporarily irreversible side effect, visible to all. He always loved her eyes, and he joked, that in this way, he'd carry her with him everywhere.

"My king-husband, this is only a story."

"True, they only need to know that King Emerald loved Queen Amber more than their kingdom, more than the world…"

"But no more than she loved him."

"_More._"

Twenty years had passed since a much younger queen shared with the now-king a story. Each year was a star that twinkled its proof of the longevity of their love, a love that once sprouted from infantile contempt.

The stars aligned in their names for the length of eternity.

Or was it: "Their names aligned in the stars for the length of eternity"?

It didn't matter to them, as long as they were united in the permanence of fairytales.

...O...

The Clow Book closes, remaining undisturbed for only a short period of time, before a pair of small hands discovers it and writes his or her name across the hearts' of all its charmed inhabitants.

Likewise, they imprint their essence upon the right contender.

* * *

**Table of Contents**

**1. Princess Windy and Cherry Blossom - **the moon, the wind, and a little girl.

**2. Prince Fly and the Together Flock - **the wrong feathers get ruffled.

**3. Prince Shadow and the Stuffed Animal - **foreshadowing goes amuck.

**4. Princess Watery and the Selkie -** the sea is a harsh maiden.

**5. Princess Rain and the Itsy Bitsy Problem - **


	2. Princess Windy and the Cherry Blossom

**A/N:** So I gave in to another writing challenge. 52 more to go (including The Hope).

_Once upon a time, there was…_

**-|**WINDY**|-**

A pair of grey eyes glowed in the mist. The air roared and cleared out the veil of moisture previously airborne before the princess of the wind.

Her spiked jade crown was dewed with water droplets as were the blonde long feather tails of her hair. Princess Windy pulled her pale yellow and green wind cloak tighter around her, and let out a wet sneeze. She was thankful for the provisional concealment in the thin fog collected outside her kingdom walls, but it was also a sign that a certain princess prowled near her territory. It was unregal to be caught in such a condition by a sister princess, soaked from standing and waiting in the icy and damp mist-blanket and on the verge of catching a cold. Windy made a point to look around to confirm her aloneness, and sighed satisfactorily.

"Bless you." Windy's body tensed and the airs of her cloak stiffened, silencing their usual soft humming. The fog was thick in the forest, where she had pushed it, and where now a figure emerged and strolled into clarity.

"Yue," she said. "Why can't we meet in daylight and under better weather conditions?"

The silver-haired man shrugged his shoulders, casting his light blue cat eyes skyward. "Superstition? Full moons usually work in my favor."

"Okay, then, spill it."

"As you know, Reed's rule over the Kingdom of Clow is coming to an end, and that leaves all its sub-kingdoms vulnerable to his chosen successor." In the moonlight, Princess Windy could see how beautiful the angel-like creature was, as if he was crafted by a pair of the most loving, magical hands. The mist would not touch the moon guardian, only shift around him, in the manner in which magnet ends repelled like charges.

"Yes, there's a rumor that it's a young girl named Berry."

Yue crossed his arms, not because the icy atmosphere had penetrated his lunar shield. It was more out of annoyance at having his forbearance tried by princesses and princes alike. "_Cherry Blossom_, and it's no longer a rumor. He has finalized the selection in his book, in his own blood."

"How official." Windy pulled out a feather tail of hair and patted the droplets down into the wispy ends. "How do you keep your hair and feathers so perfectly undisturbed?"

His feline gaze narrowed in slits to her cloudy gray, hard. "Windy, you should be gravely concerned for your future, as should all your sister and brother kingdoms."

"You do all the fussing for half of us, and Keroberos for the other, so why should I concern myself with more politics? Especially when I don't have a say in the matter."

Eerie cat eyes returned to their moon overhead. "You can rile up and fight."

Princess Windy scoffed. "Reed or Cherry Blossom, what's the difference? It's kind of nice to look forward to a female ruler. It'll do wonders for gender equality."

"Reed-" the moon guardian began, but the princess would have none of it.

"'Reed this,' 'Reed that,' it's always about Reed with you, Yue," Windy said, "The man is tired and suffers an incurable disease, I heard. Let him be and give the girl a chance."

A shade of rose appeared to color his pale cheeks for a nanosecond, before fleeting all too soon to establish its presence. "He's perfectly fine. He only wants you all to think he is no longer capable of ruling."

"I heard Cherry is as pretty as the flower."

"You hear a lot of things," Yue snapped. His arms remained crossed, but it was clear to the wind princess, she had pushed him far enough, more so than any fog or mist.

"Words in the wind," she said. "Who else has the power to speak on behalf of fifty-two kingdoms?"

"Precisely why I'm here pleading to you to understand the implications of Reed's decision."

She threw her feather hair behind her, faking disappointment. "Here I thought you decided you were going to promote me to _first_ card to the moon."

"Princess Dark still holds that title, Windy, and it is not my choice."

"Let me guess, it's Reed's?"

"You are usually so sweet and undemanding, unlike your Elemental siblings. Is everything all right here?" It was clear he was attempting to use his beauty to appeal to her attraction to him, as it worked successfully with her younger sister, Princess Watery. He could influence the sea tides as he pleased, as long as he catered to Watery's small requests of company.

Windy's sour look softened, he was too pretty not to consider, even if he treaded near her heart for self-interested pursuits. "I-I-I'm all right. Just some unfinished business to tend to before the morning." The full moon made her anxious, speak too many truths. "Being second doesn't smart as much as I pretend it does."

"In the Western half, there are words going around about you," Yue replied.

Her elven long ears rose, taking in the imperceptible airs surrounding them. "Oh, yeah? They must be new and carried in small, slow breezes because I have not heard. What do they say?"

"That you're conspiring," he said.

"Against?"

"The last part changes, sometimes it's Reed, or Dark… or _me."_

The wind cloak slipped, revealing a bare white shoulder, and she immediately pulled it up. "Hmph. As if I had that kind of time on my hands."

The moon guardian chuckled. "I believe you. You wouldn't keep something, or _somebody_ from me, would you?"

Soft green and yellow winds hummed around her, her eyes glowed warmly at the moon on earth, but not at the second, hanging and boring down on her accusingly from the ebony ceiling. "Never."

.O.

"What did he say?" the girl asked, pulling the wind cloak off and placing it over the fireplace to warm and dry its chilled, moist airs. The licks of fire lit up in the emerald of her wide eyes. Her olive toned skin and sun-kissed auburn hair were signs of the girl's previous residence and perhaps home, where summer was long. Here, in the unforgiving winter-like nights, Princess Windy had returned to her quarter to find Cherry Blossom wrapped up to her neck in animal skins. In the daytime earlier, she refused to wear the hides of dead foxes and minks, but now, she covered herself hopelessly in them. Princess Windy would wager if a bear had the misfortune to cross the room to its cubs, Cherry Blossom would propel herself onto the beast and wear it to bed without a second thought.

"Nothing I haven't heard before."

The girl returned to join her in the large royal bed. Princess Windy pulled the heavy blanket over her. Everything about Cherry Blossom seemed so small and delicate, like the flower. "Do you believe him? Could I really fail you all?" Even her voice - tiny but lovely.

Windy grinned at the small flower enshrouded in wild furs. "No, the moon wanes and waxes with the sun." The cherry blossom appeared to bloom in interest. "Do you know what the sun is, my dear?"

"A star," she replied proudly, no doubt she studied the astronomy book as much as she perused the large magic one in Windy's library.

"As are you. In your heart burns a blue and white fire of a young star that can outshine the sun itself. The moon will follow, reflect and glow because of your incandescence. He won't have an option to refuse."

"Why can't the moon follow the star on his own? The star would be happier that way, and maybe he would be, too." Cherry Blossom had not the pleasure of meeting the guardian, who was eternally miffed at one person or magical being, or another. Seemed like the only company he enjoyed, or endured, was that of his brother, Keroberos, or his creator and current King of Clow, Reed.

"Have you ever seen the moon up close? Sure it's beautiful from down here, but on it, you'll see it's cratered by the impact of thousands of space rocks, covered in fine white dust, cold and devoid of any remnant of life. Yue is beautiful to look at, perfection to marvel at from a safe distance. If you ever get to know the man, you'll learn of his cold, dark side, which is truly representative of his heart, if he has one. " Princess Windy blew out the candles on the night stands, so the fireplace only cast a dancing radiance in the great bedroom. "The moon is stubborn, but it orbits around Earth anyway, and takes light from the sun. He has no free will."

Even in the darkness, her green eyes absorbed the little light that played around. "Am I a planet or a constellation?"

"As far as anyone is concerned, you're the Milky Way Galaxy." They laughed together.

The girl nuzzled up close to her, to share their warmth before sleep came over them. "You hear things about me, Windy. What do they think of me?"

"Silly stuff of course. That you're too young, inexperienced. Your bloodline is thin in magic in comparison to others." She regretted her honesty, yielding to the second moon that night.

"It's all true, though. Who am I to claim you all?" She inched away from the princess into a fetal position on the other end of the bed. "I don't want to start a war to be Queen. And. And I heard there was a boy who is after the Clow crown. By blood-magic he should have inherited the Kingdom. He wants me _dead_."

"_Little Wolf_ is only fiction. Words warp in exchanges between lips and ears fifty-plus times over. By next week, it'll be _Plum Jade, _or _Eli Moon_ the week after. I suspect Yue may be behind the whoopla to scare you up." The winds held all of those truths and lies, and unluckily to them both, she could not filter out the fairytales from fate.

"Do you believe in me?"

"You wouldn't be here if I didn't. I will spread tales of your kindness, heroism, beauty, and mastery of sorcery, so that others may, too. By a month, they'll say you have fairy and dragon blood running in your veins and pumping out of your starfire heart."

Cherry Blossom stretched out her legs and rested on her back. "I haven't done anything, my magic is novice at best, and 'beauty,' well that is the most debatable."

"Tomorrow, you'll start. You're going to kill them with kindness." Windy found one of her hands beneath the furs and weaved her fingers into hers, providing a motherly comfort. She had only met the girl a few days ago, lost in the forest, starved and freezing. So quickly did she seep into her heart, like air in a flute, and made herself a permanent guest there, until all the princess could occupy herself with lately was how to bring Cherry Blossom into the Queen she was destined to become.

"And if that doesn't work?"

"You have the star staff, don't you? And you have my blessing to channel as you need. You will make them bend to your will." Windy presented her with the _gift_ on her third stay in her castle, to which the girl accepted tearfully and with a gratitude that could humble the coldest, anthropomorphous Clow royalty. They would grow to love her, Windy hoped, as much as she did now.

"It's not how I want to rule, Windy. I want them to follow me because they want to, not because they are willed by magic."

"You won't always have that choice."

Windy's fingers unraveled but Cherry Blossom found them again in the dark and clasped the princess' hand over her heart, which pounded with ordinary, mortal blood at a temperature of 98.6 Fahrenheit.

"One day, I will carry you all in _here_."

.O.

In the early dawn, she had packed and fed a still drowsy Cherry Blossom for her journey ahead. Thick furs for cold nights, salted meats, dried fruits and roasted nuts, a leather pouch filled with freshwater, a hunting knife, a map of Clow delineating the borders of Western and Eastern and their individual countries, and a pendant Windy had her servant re-polished, where inside Cherry Blossom's parents smiled lovingly at each other. The pendant was accompanied by the miniaturized star staff on the same thin gold necklace.

In the gold full-length mirror, Cherry Blossom watched herself, giving a slow twirl and looking back at her outfit. She was donned in brown boots and fitted slacks and a black, sleeveless shell top. It was clear to them both that the attire was suited for travel and not for vanity. Cherry Blossom grimaced. "I'm wearing too much black and brown."

"When you're Queen, you can wear the rainbow, for all I care, but for now, you'll have to put up with these lifeless, wretched colors."

"Pink," Cherry Blossom said. "I'll wear every shade of pink under the sun, and moon… and stars."

Smiling, Princess Windy held the girl's hands, which began to shake in hers. "Are you ready?"

Cherry Blossom replied with a brisk nod, but her emerald eyes said, '_No, but what else can I do?'_

The walked out into the stone-set balcony, overseeing a vast forest. Princess Windy's eyes glowed and the winds of her cloaks hummed louder and whipped around her like loose hair ribbons in a draft. They curled around Cherry Blossom and swept her over the railing and over the lands of Windy's kingdom.

The girl disappeared in the earthy shades of greens and browns, but not before mouthing a clear "Thank you," to her new friend.

Windy sighed and drew back her cloak. It was morning now, and the wind needed to go to work. The winds whipped again across the forest, carrying pollens and seeds, disheveling trees of ripe fruits and flower heads doomed to wilt.

The wind carried words of hope and fear, both wound in a floral scent belonging to Cherry Blossom, and a few of love uttered by an inscrutable source.

The princess whispered her own with the next airy gust, "Who are you?"

"_Only words in the wind…"_


	3. Prince Fly and the Together Flock

**A/N:** As I make up my own fairytales around the Clow Cards, I'll make references to others as homage. I did not mean for this to reach 3k characters. I originally meant each Clow Card to have simple 1k+ chapters, but meh, it is what it is. Thanks for the reviews and follows from my second chapter ^_^!

_Once upon a time, there was..._

-|FLY|-

"671, your request is formally denied."

The bird, if it could be called as such, squalled a "Denied?" and a disagreement in a foreign accent. Its syrinx was affected with some type of avian vocal disease, for it was a strange mockingbird who echoed every word Prince Fly said questioningly in a non-mellifluent, high-pitched tone, nothing how the prince thought he sounded. He also did not believe he was as plump looking as the paintings on the halls depicted him, and when he questioned the artist, the Bowerbird said he looked finely "robust.' Hiring an expert nest builder and freelance decorator for portraits was an abysmal decision, the prince mentally noted.

The Prince of Flight perched observantly on the armrest of the royal chair. Human history and tradition left far too many items unusable or inconvenient for the current ruler. The yellow stone encrusted bronze chair, although suited for humans, was a formality Fly could not part with, and was from where he commanded and granted favors to his subjects. Many came from far and near to request his gift, a single feather given to those who asked just right, to grant the ability to fly for an afternoon. Feathers returned to their master at the conclusion of six hours of flight. A condition that was forgotten by a few careless wishers, who'd plummet into the sea and were never seen again. There were others who sought the _blessing_, a permanent gifting of his flight, with feathers lasting the giftee for the length of their lives. _Just today alone…_

The Mockingbird took a step forward, clearly uneducated in the rules of the bird court.

Fly's elegant swan-like neck straightened, bemused by the audacity. "Peregrine, please kindly show our plucked mockingbird the way out." The falcon was tickled pink to follow orders and less-than-kindly shoved the mockingbird out of bird's-eye view.

"Number 672, please come forth to your prince of flight."

In the royal courtroom, a baby penguin wobbled forward. He was chubby for his size and species. Emperor penguins stood taller and leaner than the young representative at Prince Fly's castle. Halfway across the room, the young bird looked back to his papa penguin, who smiled encouragingly and stuck his fins forward for him to go on.

The meek child-penguin spoke in small but clear squeaks, "My Prince, I am Peeps, and I come before you to request-"

Prince Fly extended his left wing to signify silence in the room. "But I'm not your prince, as you are not from here."

"My papa and I have traveled long from Winterland, with Prince Freeze's blessing."

"What can I give you that your ice lord cannot provide?"

"I would like to fly."

The request was unsurprising, as thousands of flightless birds travelled up to visit him. Earlier he gave feathers to families of cassowaries and kiwis, an emu couple on their honeymoon, and a sole ostrich. "I can give you a gift of an afternoon flight."

"Thank you, kind Prince Fly. But I would like the blessing instead."

Fly laughed in high pitches squeals. The court of flight-blessed birds joined. "What purpose shall flight serve in the land of ice caps and waters? If I were to give you this, you would give up your ability to withstand the cold environment - your home Winterland. You'd have no other choice but to remain here alone. Papa penguin, would you let your only son go for a fantasy?"

Papa penguin responded, "In the water, we have the illusion of flight, cutting through the icy blue, but when we retreat to land, it's a reminder that another world awaits above us. Ducks and seagulls are lucky to take part in either worlds, but we are cursed to live through life only knowing half. Peeps' journey to the other blue is a communal success for our kind."

"How are you sure that the sky would be better than the waters?"

Peeps spoke again, "It's true, the minnows are slower on the other side. It's a risk I'd blithely accept."

"I should be so lucky to swim in the water heavens, taking sight of sea life: mermaids, crustaceans, electric eels, and whatnot. Any bird here would be so lucky to be you, little Peeps."

"They may say so, but how many would trade the sky for the waters even for a day?"

"Owl, Peregrine, Hawk, Eagle, Finch?" They all shook their heads.

The Prince did not like losing arguments. "I would," he said, "happily do so to prove to you, little one, how much you are giving up to gain so little. If you decide, by next day that this is your happiness, I shall grant you my one blessing."

A round of gasps and sounds of outrage: "Preposterous!" "Madness!" "Disgrace!"

Prince Fly heard none of it, as fin met wing and the exchange took place. His body became streamlined and wings shrunk to sleek fins, while Peeps legs extended and feathers sprouted and bloomed to their fullness, the once meager flaps for wings became magnificent wide limbs.

"Now let's have a try at another world."

.O.

The Phoenix circled in the air, and below Prince Fly's head bobbed above the warm waters. His new buoyancy allowed for him to float near the surface and pry an oyster propped on his belly open. He slurped the meat out with his beak, which had taken on a conveniently scooped and rounded end. The fiery bird landed on a nearby rock.

"Did you fly too close to the sun, dear Prince Fly that you fell from grace? Your waxed wings melted into those sad-looking little flippers, eh. Don't you know that only I can touch Apollo's chariot?"

"But you can never touch the waters." Fly nibbled on another crustacean. "The seat of a mythical god is overrated. I have a princely seat for myself on a castle in the clouds, just as comfortable." The last part was an exaggeration, since his home was only at the top of the highest mountain and not amidst the floating cotton ball-like masses.

"As if there was anything there worth dying for. Sharks, whales, jellyfish."

"Shrimps and the freshest krill, still wriggling with life."

Fly scooped a passing minnow and lapped it down hungrily. The waters in Clow defied nature, allowing for the fruition of salt and freshwater species simultaneously. Phoenix eyed him, with hunger rising inside of him. "Give me one."

"Why don't you catch your own?"

The Phoenix fed on field mice and snakes on a regular basis, but the appeal of seafood was much too hard to resist. "I'll trade you and hour of flight to the sun for an hour in the water."

Prince Fly slurped down another oyster, leaving its shell to disappear under the blue. "Done."

.o.

Peeps soared in the sky, as his father looked on back down on earth. He wore a paper hat and rolled a cold wet towel around his neck in the shade. Within a few minutes, he was snoring, letting Peeps practice freely aerial stunts without any parental consequences.

Prince Fly took the skies ablaze with the skin of the Phoenix, where he shortly after accompanied Peeps wearing the royal hide. The former Emperor penguin did not recognize the prince, for all that he could see were the flames spreading behind the fire bird in two extensive fans.

"Nice afternoon for a flight," the fire bird commented.

"It's perfect."

"Perfect for perching on the sun, I would say."

"The sun? We can do such a thing?"

"You must be new. Of course we can. Haven't you ever heard of sun-bathing?" The penguin nodded. "Follow my lead!"

The penguin followed the prince, not too close, or he could be singed by the flame tips of his feathers, but enough to feel their heat radiating off. Their vertical rising extended from one mile to ten more, neither bird slowing down for the other. The sweet warmth and favorable winds of Prince Fly's land ended at the eleventh mile along with the troposphere. The next ten, followed by another, and another to sum to thirty miles the space around them was a vacant blue, clear as still waters on his home. Of course, when he would retell the story of the stratosphere it would include robots with metallic wings larger than igloos. The following thirty miles in the mesosphere were the coolest by far, reminding him of the biting chill of home. He welcomed the atmosphere, but started to feel the lack of proper covering on his body. The Phoenix continued to soar higher, the cold only reduced the flames on his back to small radiating plumes. At four hundred miles above Earth, sparks of heat burn hottest around them but the thin air did not allow Peeps to sense their sting. The thermosphere was deceptively cold, and he called out to the Phoenix, "How much further?"

"Not sure. I'm aiming for another world, beyond the blues."

Against his better judgment, Peeps continued the strenuous flight. They said the sun careened in a barge over their world. Would Amun and Nyambi be its first mates, with Tonatiniuh as its captain, leading Earth's fifth sun into a new cosmic era? Regardless, there was a chance that the heavens ended with waters. After all, the waters below, when stagnant, mirrored the star-speckled better half.

At the brink between thermosphere and exosphere, the young bird's new wings failed him. The air had gone from extremely thin to nearly nonexistent. He finally wondered as his eyes closed how he ever managed to reach this point. Biologically, it was impossible. He was a fine student in school, excelling at science and math equally. Before he plummeted, the brilliant sight of electric blues and outworldly green and reds and pinks never before witnessed exploded in his eyesight, as a geomagnetic storm brought out the auroras in the ionosphere. The dancing of the spirits is a science Peeps knows all too well, where photonic emissions into the upper atmosphere created a display he'll never see again up close. They were common in his home in the artic, but to see them like this felt like he was seeing them for the first time. He was thankful to greet the Goddess of Dawn and the North Wind, before falling down to Earth like a broken star. Like an excited atom returning to its ground state, of course without a beautiful show.

.O.

Prince Fly kept an eye on the little bird tailing him to the edge of the world and when he fell before he reached Apollo, he was disappointed.

It wasn't because the downfall provided Phoenix and Fly the proof that the former was built for treks to his father Sun, and the latter was a dyed-in-the-wool-or-feather failure. Phoenix was the true heir to the fire orb, and Fly was a pretender to a throne he would never own. Phoenix could arise from ashes, to return from the underworld. In the borrowed skin, Fly could only temporarily fool himself into imagining himself deified into more than a prince of wings and flight.

It was also at this very moment that he remembered his old hide was disposed to mortality over the bones of an ordinary bird, and his former life was rapidly declining into an early expiry. He would not walk among the gods of the Sun but descend to begrudgingly retrieve his reality.

The prince cut down into the azure of his ordinary world to fall aside the penguin. In Peeps' unconsciousness the trade could not take place, because it was a Cardinal rule to never trade feathers without given consent. Fowl play was punishable by wing clipping and the worst offenders would be subjected to pinioning, and Prince Fly would be darned to hear his birdfolk tweeting about royal feather trimmings. He shrieked to wake the young bird to no avail. Falling was faster than flying against gravity. On Earth it was nighttime now – how long had they flown? The answer dawned on him - _six hours_. Prince enacted gift of a feather earlier trumped the subsequent skin loan. They were doomed to the waters, where one would drown having giving up that world mere hours ago and the second would die a fool, never knowing the extent of his flight capabilities.

Prince Fly encased the young bird and the heat melted his loaned feathers together in a sort of streamlining fashion around his body to permit some protection against the waters. He would be lucky if he survived. In history, they all drowned. If he made it, Prince Fly would die a hero, and the young bird would take his throne as willed by the royal skin.

"Water, please, give me water," he heard the young bird croak.

"Almost there," he assured.

"Thank you." The Prince hadn't the heart anymore to exchange skins. Peeps would surely try to save him. He would have none of that, for it was his folly they were falling.

A strong wind blew to slow their descent to earth but insufficient to halt them. The Mockingbird joined the two in their fall, with a second bargain for the day, this one for the penguin:

"Peeps, I'm an excellent swimmer. If you give me flight, I'll happily part with my skill."

They exchanged.

A still-phoenixed Fly roared down with fire wings, speeding uncontrollably toward the waters, too late to veer away.

Mockingbird steered the wind and touched his wing, and then fell herself afire into the blue to drown. Peeps joined the water to retrieve a startled Fly, using the girl's impressive swimming skills to take to the shore. When he looked around for his mockingbird friend, he found another bird carrying her to the warm sand, and take the extinguished fire cloak from her. He returned the borrowed water skin to the penguin, and Peeps was once again himself. The fire skin, on the other bird, was now a dull grey of wet ash, but sparked again with life on him.

"This mockingbird does not follow our rules of feather-switch. Just as she takes, we may reclaim," the phoenix said.

Fly walked to take a closer look at the girl-bird. "What a fool, 671, to leave with nothing and risk everything."

She reached for his feathers, and plucked one. "I'm leaving with your blessing."

"That's not it. I already gave it to Peeps, _see_?" His beak pointed to the newly-crested head of Peeps, where a long white feather stood tall proudly.

The admiration of the new look was cut short when the baby penguin handed over the feather to the mockingbird. "Her name is Cherry Blossom, and she deserves this more than I do. I've seen enough of the other side to be happy to live the rest of my life in water. The world is 71% water, and there is much of it I have yet to see."

"Thank you," Cherry Blossom said, taking the feather.

"You were my second choice, so you're welcome," the prince replied. "You have a lot of pluck for your kind. Are you not satisfied with your fingers?"

"Too much, if you ask me," phoenix groused.

Cherry Blossom swanned, "The three of you traded to experience another life. It's obvious that no one among you knew the limits of your new or former lives. I am thankful for everything I have, but I too, am not satisfied with wielding the winds. I've only flown in my dreams. In dreams, they say, if unable to take up wings again after a flight, the foundation of life will be unstable, and it certainly is, finding myself falling into Clow Kingdom, onto unfamiliar grounds with treacherous fated footprints to follow. If I leap and take wing from where I stand, I will have happiness, freedom, and health. My body is heavy with misfortunes, and when I dream in recent times, I only sink."

"Then let's fly!" the phoenix wawled.

Prince Fly wing flinched at stretching his regained wings, the right one positively injured when he played with fire. "I can't… I can't…." He could not produce the correct F-word at the tip of his beak.

"The lord of wings cannot fly? What a tragedy!"

"Embarrassment."

"Unfortunate."

"A final exchange?" Cherry Blossom offered, showing an injured leg that would leave her with a limp and require two weeks of nursing. "I cannot walk to continue my journey and you cannot fly to rule properly."

"What about your flight?"

"Your well-being is more important to me," she said. He extended the injured wing as best he could and she did as well with her leg. His wing and her leg healed, while the other limb gained an injury.

"Cherry Blossom," Peeps stated, "this would be the best time to leap and test your blessing."

"It's only a myth," she said. Healing when flying was only a dream side effect, and the freedom was limited to certain atmospheric layers or societal duties. We were all in a cage of one form or another.

"Not if you believe in it," the prince replied.

"Fly: Release!" the feather floated and dissolved into sparks into her body. She waited for the pain on her right arm to shoot up with the transformation into a wing, but in its place she felt warmth on either side of her spine, from where wings sprouted. The ache in her arm still was there. "Still hurts."

Prince Fly reacted, "Because you thought it would. Nonetheless, your subconscious solution was a better one. You get to keep your precious fingers."

"They're okay, fingers, I mean," she said. With her good arm, she reached behind to feel her new limbs, her fingers letting her stroke the silky feathers.

"Fingers can touch, feel and pick open shrimps with greater feat than our beaks. They are quite impressive."

"You can clap, snap fingers together, and," Peeps leaned into the flock, "give the _bird_."

"Would you trade them for a prince's crown?" The previous exchanges were bittern'ed by unforeseen circumstances and Prince Fly was determined to not let the whippoorwills have the final chirp tonight.

There was no gulling the Cherry Blossom. "No, but a Queen's crown, however, I may consider."

Penguin shook his head, "Birds of a feather…"


	4. Prince Shadow and the Stuffed Animal

_Once upon a time, there was…_

-|SHADOW|-

The monster's shadow clawfoot stepped over the town's people. While they cowered confused, expecting their bones and flesh to collapse under the massive limb of their once-upon-a-time sensible prince of shadows, the limb lifted and the second clawfoot descended onto a haggle of frightened merchants. Not one town folk was physically harmed as the shadow treaded over them in an impolite manner. It was intent on crossing the entirety of the town, targeting a mysterious bull's-eye on the outskirts of his domain. Each set of clawed steps increased the monster's height by 24 inches or a pair of feet.

A little 'cat,' yellow in color, with the smallest pair of functioning wings for its size, appeared from a wicker basket he hid as the prince stomped through the area. In the unnaturally bright morning light, he inspected the shadow his small form cast in the graveled street. It was a deep mauve, the color of a well-set bruise marbled with smoky gray. His shadow hyperventilated out of sync with his real form, finding no relief in the distance from endangerment. It lost its desire to parallel his movements seamlessly, now pointing to the gravel beneath the people nearby.

As they picked up the trinkets and foodstuff from their overturned wooden crates, the 'cat' caught the absence of shadow there, ordinary or peculiar like his, and the faces of their once-casters veiled with an indistinct darkness. The town around him was running in autonomy, a death clockwork, to tick and tock in robotic synchronism and accordance to Newtonian mechanics for ever and a day.

The 'cat' was named Cerberus, and he was here with the intention of shadow boxing with the prince and catch a shadowplay on his way back to Clow. Now, he would be late to meet the king, his brother, Princess Light, and Princess Dark to discuss the political shift to the new ruler, one that was currently missing somewhere out in the kingdom's 52 factions. There were more important and more interesting undertakings out here, one of them restoring order in a faction under his jurisdiction before its prince overshadowed more than the hills surrounding his home valley.

"Take me to him," the little 'cat' said. The shadow nodded vehemently and took flight fore, with his caster close behind.

...O…..

The girl walked with her shadow as a silent companion along the scraggy-treed hill to her next destination. The wrinkly parchment paper with the kingdom's 52 subdivisions, she deliberated, must have led her astray. As much as she walked, Cherry Blossom sworn she'd kicked the same patch of dandelions a septette, heptad, or septenary in occasions, sending the last of its fuzzy members to an adventure on the wind's back.

_Seven_. _What an unusual number_, she thought rightfully. There were much of sevens in life, as she recalled it to the best of her ability. The memories were foggy and the oddest sights or smells here brought her nostalgic tears. The sight of apples, red as vivid and alive as the blood coursing through the twists and coils of her circulatory system, sent an excited flutter in her belly. Though, the bite she took dulled the sensation of déjà vu, if it was so. Voracity was a beast of its own, soothed by the fruits of her weary traveling.

Seven days of the week _(Did time work differently here?), _seven notes on the musical scale _(Had she played music before to know this?)_, seven colors to white light when broken by prisms (Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet) (_Where was pink in it, for the world she knew pink was alive, blossoming in the trees in spring, in the sweets her hands held, in the shoelaces when she looked down to retrieve a fallen charm given to her by...) _The number was a safe double Mersemme lucky and happy prime. (_Why did mathematics make her want to cry?)_

Her intuitive sixth sense, as she called it, sparked, feeling a pair of curious eyes on her, watching from somewhere in the vicinity. Cherry Blossom shielded her eyes from the bright light of day using her hand as a brim at her temple. A small plot of yellow flowers with spurts of red fleshy berries made her lick her lips. She set down her woven satchel on the dry grass circling the little oasis.

Cherry Blossom tugged at what looked to be one of the smallest strawberries she'd ever seen, with her good, right hand. Her left arm, injured in her encounter with Fly, rested in a sling she'd fashioned out of a handkerchief and rope. The tiny berry loosened and snapped from its stem onto her open palm. Normal strawberries as she remembered them had seeds polka-dotting their red coat, whereas these had seeds raised over the red like big goosebumps. She popped the berry into her mouth and let her teeth cut into the soft meat. Her face scrunched up, finding the fruit dearth in flesh and flavor.

"Mock strawberries. Supposed to grow in shades, not out here in the sunny parts. They're nature's unfunny joke." The small cat-like fella in the strawberry patch grinned. He had red on the corner of his mouth, undoubtedly duped by the same trickery.

Cherry Blossom tipped her head in agreement. "I don't like how it pretends to be tasty," she said, spitting out the bland berry – half in disgust and half in surprise. "Who… what are _you_?" The little creature reminded her of stuffed plush animals, with his beady, plastic-looking black eyes and little nose and mohair fabric in a rusty gold color for a hide she'd seen in many teddy bears. A pair of white wings, a tuff of hair at the end of a skinny feline tail, and an oversized head with ears too distinguished from bear or cat, led her to think it was something else completely.

The stuffed animal responded to another question, one she'd eventually ask anyway. "I was looking for cherries. Have you seen any?"

"I am a _Cherry_, but I'm not edible."

"Are you a mock cherry, then? You're not a very good one." She laughed at the question and criticism, articulated with sincerity. The creature's facial muscles twitched until his own laughter, rich and loud, joined hers.

Laughter stopped abruptly, and they met in an unofficial staring contest, where both opponents narrowed their eyes. "_Who_ are you?"

"I'm the…"

"You grin like a Chershirian. Are you from-"

He pointed to himself and the ground. "I'm from _here_. I don't eat cheese without the cake, but I do take cream with my tea. _Say_, do you have any sweets in that bag over there?"

"And these little ears are too rounded to be cat, too wide to be bear." Cherry Blossom invaded his personal space, pulling at his left ear slightly, feeling its texture, soft as down, between her fingertips.

Swatting her attention away, the cat-bear-stuffed-animal creature replied, "I'm the beast… of…of… of the _seal?_" The response earned a tilt of the head from his conversation partner who blinked seconds before he did and lost the aforementioned contest.

"Are you telling or asking? Being a charmed stuffed animal is nice enough. You don't have to lie."

He replied again, chest puffed out to instill confidence in his appearance along with voice. "I'm the beast of the _seal_. There was a book, I fell asleep reading on it, or in it. I was inside the book."

"Someday I want someone to write a book about me. I would read it."

"The book wasn't about me. I was its… its _guardian_…"

* * *

The blonde boy stirred in the afternoon nap, as the sun washed over him. His legs and hands twitched in a dream-run over a field, as not himself but as a lion, chasing after his loose shadow. Next to him, Sakura Kinomoto, the pre-schooler, read from her Clow Book.

"Guardian of the sun," he murmured. "My jurisdiction…"

"What did he say?" Sakura asked his brother, the sullen-looking pale one on her other side. Yue pretended to not be interested in the story she read but not once interrupted, except to correct her pronunciation of long, multi-syllabled words. Voracity was drawled out as Voooooo-rraaaaaaaaaa-ciiiiiiiiiiiii-tyyyyyyy for an unnerving extent of time, and Chershirian evolved into Che-Che-Cher-sheeeeeeee-ri-ri-anne in the pre-schooler's tongue. Sakura wondered if the word was friends with 'Pollyanna,' as Mr. Reed had described her in the monthly review of his students' progress. Sakura was having a hard time as it was finding a 'Monomyth' in his book.

"He's remembering," was the atypical response. "Other lives."

"I've only had one life," she said, despondent, as if missing out on something essential. Living out one life was tough enough. Hers was still reeling from losing her mother to a place in the sky only a year ago. Worse her older brother claimed their mother visited him at night, speaking to him as he slept. Sakura could never hear her mother's voice or see her watch over her bed. The thought of her ghost wandering in the house did not disturb her any bit, but the one of her mother forgetting who she was, saddened her greatly.

Yue was looking at her funny, and Sakura noted that her thumb had found its way into her mouth. _He must think I'm a baby_, she thought, pulling it out and wiping the saliva on her pink T-shirt. "Should I keep reading?"

"If you must," Yue said, "for Kero."

"For Kero," Sakura repeated.

Cats fancied living nine lives by some tales, but in certain parts of the world, they've only _seven_. It was six to eight more lives than her. Maybe the blonde-haired boy was part-cat, inheriting half the lives, 4 ½ or 3 ½, from a cat parent. Fractions were fearsome tiny numbers who didn't like sharing the same space so they drew a line to separate themselves. It was kind of like when Syaoran would take chalk and draw a line across the floor in class and tell her not to cross his half, and she would cry crocodile tears until he would hand her the pink play dough and the stencils from his side. As small as she and he were, no room they occupied at the same time was big enough to contain both of them without a near-scuffle erupting. Yes, Syaoran Li and Sakura Kinomoto, were exactly like fractioned numbers, spiteful at having to share a tiny enclosure with only a line to keep the other at bay.

Sakura longed for Kero to live those whole lives and never those bloodcurdling halves or double quarterns, or quadruple eighths. The boy was scrappy like an alley cat, and spirited like a kitten.

His heart was all lion and gold.

(Unlike Syaoran's, which was brassy and rocky and filled with mudpies, and not the good chocolate dessert kind.)

* * *

The ground shook around them, and in the expanse of dry fields, both girl and creature saw the shadow monster quaking the earth with every footfall. Its red eyes shone intensely in their direction and it began to pick up speed.

"Here!" The creature tossed her a metallic dagger-like tool. It was gold in color, edges too dull to cut into anything, in fact they were detailed with an ornate design, that included fleurs-de-lis, raised golden pearls, stars, crescent moons, and suns. There were empty seven-pronged settings where stones should have filled. The handle, if it was one, was jagged and rough in design as if broken off of a bigger piece.

"What is this?"

"I don't know. Thought you would." He grinned at her, apologetically shrugging his tiny shoulders.

Cherry Blossom placed it in her satchel, and retrieved her star wand, as the quakes grew bigger and the shadow drew nearer. "If we're going to die, we should know each other's names. I'm _Cherry Blossom." _She extended her good hand to what may be her last companion and friend she made in this life.

The cat-bear cub accepted her hand in his paw and shook it firmly. "I'm Cerberus, pleased to meet you and mayhap to live to die another day together."

The shadow extended its limb out to reach across the field to her and curl its talons around her waist, pulling her shadow off her body entirely. She witnesses her shadow struggle in the grasp of the fiend, feeling her own body also suppressed, unable to move. "Peace to thy gentle shade," the thief said.

Her shadow grew still in his clutches, and before Cherry Blossom could express her discontent in her shadow's poorly timed nap, she passed out over mock strawberries and a Cerberus too sluggish to maneuver out of her way.

Above them the sky shone in violent storms, like knives cutting into the cerulean to bleed white, until the battleground glowed with the mysterious otherness.

…..O…..

Eyelids blinked slowly to open and a pair of emerald green eyes met the concerned looks of the strange little stuffed animal.

"You overslept, we have to go and get 'im. Stole from you," the Cerberus said.

Cherry Blossom looked to her stuff, everything was still in her traveling pack, and even the shiny gold shard the little creature gave her was there. Around her neck her two pendants were intact on the necklace. "It didn't take anything from me."

"He took your shadow!"

Standing, she looked to the ground where her shadow should have mimicked, finding nothing but flattened mock berries. She inspected the soles of her feet – nothing there – as if her shadow had been ripped cleanly off her person. Remembering how her shadow hardly put up a fight to stay with her caster, Cherry Blossom frowned. "I don't even miss it."

"_Umbra sumus." _

"What?"

"_We are shadow_," Cerberus explained. "Everything that exists, casts one in the light." He looked serious for a cute toy with red berry spittle on his face and dirt on his wings. "If we don't get it back before dark, it becomes his forever."

"What will happen to me?"

"You become a puppet, to move in shadow plays at his will and never at your own again."

To her dismay, she decided to reclaim her shadow and her life, even if fate decided its course in the end, whichever direction at the fork in the road she took. "Fly: Release!"

Her wings materialized in pink flashes on her back. Rather than being impressed at her set of flight devices, comelier and more majestic than his, her new friend made one last commentary, and a good one at that, "If you had Fly's blessing all along, why were you walking in circles?"

She facepalmed.

…..O…..

They followed the aura of the shadow monster to the town in the valley, enclosed by seven hills, none of which Cherry Blossom's journey on foot had happened upon, by accident or intentionally. In flight, the world below was clearer but the air was fuddled, grumbly, and hard to breathe in. Cerberus and she descended on the edge of the town, to make the rest of the trip to the castle on foot to stay out of Prince Shadow's sight.

Though light shone brightly through the fog over the little town, its life there was dimmed by a strange darkness. People shuffled along, looking downward. They bumped into her, and when she excused herself, and looked directly into the face of one, she saw nothing. The expression was no more than a blank slate, and there was uniformity in how they all looked. There were discernible differences among the death marionettes, but without their shadows, they might as well be the same as the next. The plush animal was quiet for once, observing everything in their path from the satchel.

"Prince Shadow has gone rogue, stealing shadows of his people, eating them," he said.

A marionette spoke to their right, "He's building up the _tsalmaveth. _If it grows big enough, it will overtake Clow, even take on Reed himself." At closer scrutiny, Cherry Blossom saw that this one was all shadow and expressive in the dark face, even handsome when he smiled at her rude observation. "We've looked forward to meeting you."

"Erebus?"

"Cerberus, late per usual. At least you brought the girl in time."

"_Hoe?"_ Cherry Blossom questioned.

Her little friend hovered out of the bag and onto her shoulder. "Erebus is Prince Shadow's chief adviser and caretaker. He is also the darkness in the shadows and their guide to the afterlife."

"Can't you stop him?"

"No, Shadow is a product of light. I can only take the lives of the casters whose shadows he's taken into his own. I must tend to their existence on this plane in the meantime, before Thanatos comes to take them in true death," Erebus said. "My son, Aether, will help you."

A white storm brewed a few feet away from the three, from which emerged a human-like figure of the same off-white color, as handsome as his father. His eyes were dark pits with white pupils, and he also wore the robes of his father, stylized in the fashion a grim reaper would favor on a work day.

Cherry Blossom couldn't resist asking, "Do you work for Death in this world?"

The son answered for both of them, "No, we all follow the Moirai, the fates. And if what my brother, Geras, says is true of your lifeline, we must recoup your shadow back immediately."

…..O…..

She wore her Fly wings, and with her good arm, pulled out the staff. The shadow darkened, stretching out. There were two, three, then _four_ lights flashing around, and four shadows of the Prince followed.

"Only one of them is real," Aether warned, "hit the wrong one and it'll backfire on you." He fogged the air about the town with his cold but bright essence to distract the shadow monster of the Prince.

Cerberus expelled a fireball from his mouth to the prince's third shadow, only to have it reflected back to himself. The little stuffed animal rolled onto the grass, stopping when a pebble entered his pathway. The aether air was in his eyes, the light clouding his vision. The godly air in his sight. _Godly. Gods… how could they breathe or see… _His fighting skills had become fuzzy as the battleground. How he ever managed to win a battle in such a puny form baffled him… there had to be more to it… if only he could think… _clearly?_ "Cherry, rise above the haze!" The girl soared into the cerulean clarity and where sun could touch her with its natural warmth.

A transformation of his form began with the growth of wings over his small body. Threads of sunlight broke through the aether miasma to turn Cerberus into a golden lion, maneless but shielded with silver armor. The large garnet in the center of his chest plate lit up, pushing the aether into the upper sky, where it belonged. "Now! Subdue him."

"Windy: Release!" The winds wrapped around the shadow-beast and the sun guardian's garnet shone brighter to dispel the shadows stuck to the Prince. The figure that remained behind wore a dark robe much like the one's worn by Aether and Erebus. In front of him, he held Cherry Blossom's shadow. Both his eyes and her shadow's lit red.

"Thank you," The Prince said. Her shadow inched towards her, as if recognizing its caster. Only her wings cast a shadow on the ground, and so her shadow brought her down by pulling on them, as if she were the kite at the end of an invisible string.

Aether having grown quiet in moments earlier, spoke once more, "I wasn't going to hurt her, my Prince, I never intended for her shadow to be caught."

"Doesn't matter," Prince Shadow said. He opened his robe, where a black hole partially revealed itself. Aether's shadow was sucked into his void. "As your shadow, no mass or space."

..…O…..

"What will happen to Aether?" Cerberus asked. He avoided political discussions like the plague, but it was his duty to deal with half the factions under his sign of the sun.

"His father, Erebus, has served me loyally from my birth date and to my end, if it ever comes. Aether has been like a younger brother to me, and I can only punish him accordingly."

"He would have taken over Clow if he could."

Prince Shadow went on penning a letter to his people to be posted first thing in the morning, along with an invitation to a night soiree as a formal apology for the disturbances. The quill on his shadow hand dipped into the night-cobalt ink and made more strokes on paper. "Who is to say he was working alone? Maybe I wanted to rule more than a shadowed little valley, maybe I grew weary of living in King Reed's shadow. Aether was the catalyst in the long-delayed plan."

"Be careful in your wording, Prince Shadow. Aether, don't forget, clouded my memories earlier, and that also falls under your wrongdoings if you take responsibility."

"We are family. We always look out for each other, no matter what." His quill rested on the onyx desk. "I gave your Cherry my blessing with her shadow as a sincere apology. She was satisfied with that. Why can't you be as understanding?"

A guest entered Prince's office, a woman covered solely with a dark sarong. Her voluptuous figure was visible beneath the semi-translucent fabric in the candlelit room. Her eyes were the same dark pits of Aether and Erebus. "Aether takes after his grandfather, Chaos, never forgiving the separation of earth and heaven, seeking retaliation in his own way, but there is good in him," she said.

"Nyx, I won't always look the other way."

"But you will, when your brother finds her." The woman rubbed his head affectionately. The mother of night was right, Cerberus knew.

There was no sparing Cherry Blossom the judgment that awaited her at the end of her expedition.

…..O…..

Cherry Blossom inspected the gold dagger-shaped piece in the light, not any closer to discovering its identity.

Cerberus' inner light bulb sparked on. "Ah!"

She looked over to him. "What is it?"

"It's a… it's a…" He thought harder, gritting his teeth and with paws positioned over his forehead, to find in the darkest most hidden folds of his brain the answer, an answer eluding him at every flash of light bulb. "…a _thing_."

The girl, heavy with anticipation in her eyes and body, fell over.

Cerberus prodded her with the pointy end of the shard. "Are you all right, kid?"

In the sun with the dusty ground as backdrop, the shard threw its shadow. Neither saw the crown the ordinary looking shard cast or Cherry Blossom's keen shadow being picking up the seven-pointed diadem to wear on her head.

Shadows always knew what hid in the dark, like the future, waiting for the right light to shine upon it.


	5. Princess Watery and the Selkie

_Once upon a time, there was…_

-|WATERY|-

Water lapped lazily onto the sands, for no other particular reason but to feign an accidental brush against the toes of the shore's visitor, a handsome young man with too much on his mind and far too many letters to read aloud to his sea listeners. Princess Watery would not permit her head to rise above the waves, observing meekly from the surface. Next to her another pair of eyes, of the Nyk, provided company and audience to the boy. She chided him to keep his place and not appear to her prospect. He thrummed the violin strings once with his fingers and not the bow, before returning it to its case, not risking upsetting his petite but powerful friend.

"Shall I bring the sirens to sing him into the waters, dear princess?"

"No, I want him to come willingly," she replied.

"And if he doesn't in time?"

"I'll drown him myself for keeping."

Nyk "hmmed" his satisfaction with her response and left.

The water princess only presented a façade of self-control. She was like the waters, conforming to the flows as directed by the moon, winds, and the many deities and living critters inhabiting the blue. She took the shape of containers, whether pretty, ornate silver flasks, leather pouches for travel, tubs for bathing, or chalices for drinking. She followed states of being according to temperatures – solid in the winter cold, vapor on the hottest summers, and liquid for the most part. She was malleable and amorphous. Many would consider this a strength, to adapt to the ever changing forces in life, but to her, it would only be so, if she could reign her form the way she did the waters around her. Or even just her heart.

Lately, she wished she could acquire the bipedalism of the creatures who strolled outside her world to accompany the young man ashore. Holding hands with digits without webbing and soft, warm palms would be wonderful as well. Skin that freckled in the sun and wrinkled with too much time in the waters or too much time in the dry. A day of this would suffice.

To feel weak.

…..O…..

A slender flipper pushed aside a pair of snakehead cowrie seashell earrings with the pale purple tops, edging them closer to the other mer-person, an old female, attending to her hair. They were a shade close to a soft pastel of an amethyst, the color of the paler blotches of the stone. The elderly one's long fingers moved over the surface of her vanity table, feeling for the next seashell, oyster, or sand dollar. Her once bright and defined eyes were fogged to a milky gray with age. Her sight was short, requiring more time to pleat her favorite mermaid's mane. Regardless, it was a task she happily fulfilled to listen to her granddaughter chatter about the latest boy to capture her fickle heart.

"Grand-mama, I like a boy."

"I know you do, dear, but he only minds the moon and his king." A dozen oyster shells with pearls formed a wreath in her grandmother's hair. The old mer-widow took a fresh one and clamped in on her granddaughter's indigo tresses away from the other half she was presently fishtail braiding. "And don't address me as such, princess, it makes me feel ancient."

"_Nana_, it's a different boy. He is human of lordly or royal descent," she brightly voiced.

"How do you know?"

"He _is_, I'm sure of it." The braiding paused, awaiting further elucidation. "I have no certainty, but it doesn't matter. I may even love him, and true love trumps everything."

"Your father is setting up prospects for you. Humans are out of the question. Fragile little dolls with no gills, always drownin'. You have your sister to thank for that. Pfft… as if immortal souls and human princes were worth a vain death of our kinds."

A second oyster shell clamped her hair too tightly and Watery snapped it off with a flipper. "I've heard love is worth such risks. 300 years as a daughter of air means nothing to a girl who has all but loved and was loved even if only once and fleetingly."

Nana clapped her elfen ears. "You know nothing. Throw that 'L' word around one more time and I'll take you to the sea witch myself. Get that smart tongue cut out and I'll give you a good lickin' as a parting gift."

"With my own tongue?"

Her smart mouth earned her another clap of her ears and eight decorative oysters to clamp tightly to her tail and pinch her with every swish. Grandmother said the highest ranking mermaids wore the greatest numbers of oysters. Even if she, Princess Watery, was the present master of the waters, it was likely the oysters were as much punishment as for show. If human, she would equate the pain as walking or dancing upon endless floors of glass fragments.

Watery would trade her fancy but painful presentation for a day dancing on two feet, even if every step made her bleed.

Her oysters clicked together when she turned swiftly. They did little more than aggravate her further, earning a passing angelfish a smack to the side and a father seahorse with infant ponies in tow a threatening look to keep his wailing family mum. Without a hush, the sea-ponies silenced their nickering.

All the other fish in the vicinity cleared their princess' warpath.

…O…

"Watery!" Cherry Blossom was thrilled at the sight of the waterfall, it was as good as the sprite who owned the element whose dearth was severely felt in shadowed desert. The day in flight was as exhausting as it would have been on foot. Instead of her legs and feet aching and blistering, her back felt strained and she was fatigued all over equally. Magic exhausted your spirit, the Cerberus explained. With time and practice hers would increase in endurance and intensity, much like any other sorcerer. The girl was overly tired to inquire more, eyes stinging from dryness and her lips chapped and so crackled it hurt when a small smile broke across it.

Cerberus rubbed his eyes, then fixated on direction of the soft, roaring of water. "No, but close enough."

Unconcerned with safety, the girl ran, tossing her satchel and shoes onto the dry area of the bank and inched herself off the ledge into the blissful water. It was cool and refreshing against her skin, and thankfully only reached her waist, having lost her swimming ability in the process of attaining Fly's blessing.

The Cerberus watched her puzzled.

Loosening the red ribbons which held her short brown hair in two low pigtails, she explained herself, "I haven't bathed in days! My clothes felt so grimy, I thought I might never feel clean again."

"I haven't in weeks. I don't see the point in splashing around in it, it's so wet and it gets all over-" He was interrupted by his own yelping as Cherry snatched him and dipped him into the water. The stuffed animal threw her an unforgiving glower as he scattered to grip the slick surface of a wet rock on the ledge.

"You had berry and dirt all over. You were due for a good bathing." She splashed him. The water steamed around him as a fireball formed in his fierce tiny body. He retained the fire, not dispelling as retaliation, perhaps as mercy to the delicate thin-skinned nature of his new companion. Cerberus had few true friends outside of his rulings. Surely the twenty-six under his sign were acquaintances, but hardly any of them had an option to be otherwise. Here, this young girl, treated him as an equal, not the bothersome knucklehead his brother deemed him. A defensive double splash evened their score… briefly.

A fiddle commenced its play nearby, halting their warring splashes. They were positive no one occupied the space beneath the small waterfall, and splashing distraction or not, they'd notice someone slink through the periphery of their view.

Girl and stuffed animal's heads turned simultaneous to give the musical intruder a quizzical look.

"You may call me Grim," the boy said without pausing his music. "I live here." His upper body, torso up, was exposed and Cherry Blossom hoped his fiddle was waterproof for it was struck by spritz of water as he played 'King of the Fairies.' The recognition of the piece surprised her, a surprise that would not be surpassed even by an admission of him actually being the _king_ of even only _a _fairy. It was funny how her memories worked, sneaking up on her like the waterfall fiddler.

Minutes passed without no one interrupting further and upon the song ending, Grim offered his hand for proper introductions.

Cherry neared, and when he was at arm's length, she realized he was missing more than a shirt. She turned as crimson as the fruit of the flower she was named after. She'd expected to be at least 18 when she saw her first naked person of the opposite gender, now she was mentally scarred _X_ years before... how old was she?

"She's not from around here, is she?" Grim asked to the Cerberus, who shook his head.

"Would you say that we are of similar age?"

"I'd say you're about my sisters' age." The answer was not as helpful as she expected.

"And how old would that be?" Cherry asked.

"Fifteen-" Her eyes widened in shock. "-hundred," and then dimmed in disappointment.

She sighed and said, "Seems like a lot of years."

"Had you had your first red moon?"

"What is that?"

"A customary practice for young women, on the 45th lunar eclipse of their life. It is said-"

Cerberus cut him off, "You're 15 or 14 in human years."

It seemed like an awful lot of years she had missed from the last cake whose lit candles numbered less, a number filled at most with one hand.

….O…..

On the shore, her 'prince' awaited for her silent presence, her keen ears to listen to his latest batch of letters.

Seals frolicked on the warm safiner their hairs shiny and brushed finely. One disappeared behind a large rock, and then emerged a human female with a gray seal skin wound around her form like a dress with pins of the semi-transparent white hue of fish cartilage. It would not surprise Watery, if they were the old bones of a medium-sized fish, eaten days ago by the other young visitor who frequented the beach as of late. An old rope from a sail worked around her waist like a belt.

_The harlot! _Watery fumed. In truth, they were selkies, acting according to their lazy nature to repose and bask under sunshine on the shore. The prince only happened to come upon the wrong time. The harlot, Jessie Belle, pretended interest. Tears stung Watery's eyes. A male selkie prodded her side with its black, wet nose.

"What?" she snapped. "These are only two, five short of your visit." Folklore had it, that upon the drop of the seventh tear into the sea, a handsome male selkie would appear to the lonely maiden. The terminology 'maiden' was used loosely, for in much of history, the weeping ones were married women, unhappy with absent husbands, husbands out in the sea being pirates or honorable fishermen. Regardless of occupation, their men were at the mercy of the princess and her minions, and the women, regardless of relationship status, swooned by enticing men carrying seal pelts, men who welcomed eighth, ninth, and further tears onto their shoulders.

The selkie fanned his shiny whiskers, inviting her into his flirty playfulness. "I'm feeling generous."

"I want _him_."

"She called dibs on him weeks ago, leaving letters in a bottle on the other side for him to find."

That did it, inciting the waters around them to ripple and shift with her rising rage.

A tsunami greeted the shore visitors, sweeping them all into her world, where she was master.

It wasn't how Watery intended to introduce herself to her prince. She was never good at first impressions, so she went with the flow.

As did barking and yipping seals and selkies alike, a horrified Ba'al sought to clasp the hand of his selkie maiden. A well-aimed water-strike took care of that immediately, flung him back onto the sands and into unconsciousness.

The one true sea maiden oft left a terrible first impression on those who played too close.

…..O…..

Grim proved more useful in the end informing Cherry Blossom and Cerberus of the limited modes of water transportation. In a region where the natives were born with long fish tails, fins, gills, or exceptional evolved features in case of the mammalians to adapt to the aqua-dynamics, boats and ships were unneeded. A week ago, Cherry Blossom could swim laps in the ocean and hold her breath a quarter as long as a dolphin, but an impromptu trade with a newly flighted penguin left her with a only the rookie doggy-paddle she re-learned hours ago.

The few vessels traversing the waters rarely made their returning pathway, and if so, they floated to the shoreline vacant and partially wrecked. The fiddler with a proclivity for playing in the nude sent them to a cavern, the place an old moldy fishing boat and crumbly junk ship called their final resting place.

The junk ship was too large and heavy to attempt to move. In addition, its sail was torn and battens brittle, thus unable to withstand a strong breeze much less a weak gale. Together, they cleared their lesser unfortunate looking fishing boat of debris and plugged up holes with wooden plugs Cherry Blossom fashioned out of broken boards, her hunting knife, and a bit of wax from a candle she was saving for nothing in particular. A pair of mismatched red alder and black willow canoe oars completed their fly-by-night-quality of transportation.

Flight was a preferable means of travel for Cherry Blossom but both Grim and Cerberus had ascertained that flying was forbidden over Watery's domain and punishable by drowning. She would have to earn this princess' blessing by the sweat of her brow, literally, by propelling the set of oars in the direction of her favorite hangout coordinates.

As she rowed away from land, a white horse watched the boat interestedly for a minute or two before scampering off. Faint violin music played a classical piece this time but they paid no heed.

An hour-and-a-half into her rowing, her arms took turns being both sore and numb. Her little companion had made himself captain of the small boat, yapping away orders and voicing his cravings for a grilled tuna steak generously seasoned with pepper and lemon.

A deep howling disrupted her rowing rhythm and she paused in alarm.

"Stay low," Cerberus warned quietly, "we're not alone."

"That's good, they can help us," Cherry said. She stood on the boat and waved in the direction of the howls.

"Down, or he'll see us!" The stuffed animal pulled one of her pigtails, and she responded with a pull in the opposite direction. His grip slipped and the girl nearly fell overboard, catching herself on the side and sending a few splinters into her forearms.

Before they could bicker, the half-boat appeared with its sole passenger standing on it hunched over as if balancing himself or herself on the remains of his vessel. A wide oar was positioned over either side of the boat, but as it neared Cherry could see they were his seaweed-covered limbs elongated to inhuman lengths, and he used his bloated palms and fingers to row himself closer to them. It wailed closer, and she saw that its face was a distortion of human, eyes wide and yellowed, teeth bared and gruesome, skin raggedy like wet wrinkled leather.

While she grew paler with its nearing, the Cerberus barked, "Row us away!"

A strong smell of decay filled her nostrils, and to her horror, one of its hand-oars reached forward to them to scrape across the molded wood of their boat's hull.

"Cherry!"

"Is-is it a _ghost?"_ she heard herself ask.

"He will make a _ghost _out of you if you don't get us moving now!"

Cherry Blossom gripped the oars with her shaking hands, producing small and erratic rows that could not increase the distance between the two parties. The stranger gained speed and clutched their boat in its swollen digits at one end. Cherry and Cerberus positioned themselves at the other end, balancing on the edge as water quickly began to fill the boat. Sinking was inevitable and flying futile – both outcomes were the same – drowning and joining the company of the boat and others' previous passengers.

A flash of red bled across their vision. She half-expected it to have sprung from her, like water from an unfixable boat leak, red with iron-rich hemoglobin, bursting out the last drop of life from her body. Closing her eyes, she waited for the finishing blow.

When her end did not come immediately, she re-opened her eyes to find a red-robed woman with the monster wrapped in rusty chains, pulling it away from their boat. Her long dark hair whipped behind her. Ahead of her two figures emerged from the waters – one green one-horned and a second one, red and two-horned. They were no less frightening or demon-like in appearance than the thing in her captivity, but she approached them without fear.

"Thank you, Mazu," Cerberus whispered, and Cherry Blossom wondered if the mysterious woman would have heard him.

The green one-horned demon being tilted his head in acknowledgment for her, and the red two-horned one pointed in the northwestern direction. The woman in the silk robe said naught a word. The demons pulled her into the water with her, along with her chained guest, and disappeared together.

Cherry Blossom gazed in the area where they previously occupied, a different concern forming in her head. "Are they keeping her as prisoner?"

"On the contrary, they are bound to her as guardian generals. The red one can see as far as a thousand miles and the green one can sense the changing winds. She needs them to guide sailors through a safe voyage."

"She is only a girl. How could such scary things follow her?" Cherry Blossom wondered if Mazu was 14 or 15 years-old like she might be, or had several trailing zeroes to her age. Nevertheless, no amount of years in the presence of such ghastly company would make her feel safe or fearless.

"Because they love her."

Cherry Blossom knew that Cerberus loved his master, if only by the way he laughed at the pleasant memories of many of his infamous mischiefs. He had a penchant for magic, but the stuffed animal did not reveal the level of mastery. He was more than his guardian, he was a friend, keeper of secrets.

She fished out the water out of the boat with cupped hands, making a final statement, "I hope Princess Watery is nothing like them."

A sullen Cerberus remarked, "Princess Watery is the worst monster of the sea. Hope we find her on a good day."

...O…..

In the middle of the sea stood an isle covered with seagrass and smooth, pale flat rocks. On its slanted edge, a blue mermaid pried open oysters and plucked pearls out to toss into the waters. The oysters were tossed, but not wasted. A selkie collected the discarded shellfish and added their meats to his herring-filled belly.

Watery explained herself, before either one of her new visitors asked, "There's a very handsome boy." Another pearl rippled the water near the selkie. "I don't have flower petals to pluck."

Cerberus rolled his eyes. "Please don't say it's my brother."

"I met someone new, or actually _saw_ somebody and have watched him since."

"That's not creepy at all."

"His name is Ba'al, and he's some sort of lord, from what I can tell, of a place called Ekron."

The stuffed animal tossed the next pearl in the small pile next to her. "He is still very much beneath you."

"Then why am I always looking up to him from here, whenever he comes out here to read her letters?"

The timid girl that accompanied Cerberus spoke, asking in a small voice, "He has a girl?"

"Some Philistine, who keeps telling him to return home, and some others who ask for gifts from his travelings."

"You should talk to him!" Cherry Blossom said.

"Every time I try to get the courage to approach him, I go mute. I have no choice but to shift back into water before he catches sight of me." Watery sighed. "I can't be loved in this form. I need to be human, and be among_ them_."

"Nonesense, you're a princess of waters. A water deity would suit you best." Cerberus thought deeply. "Oceanus?"

She shook her head in a definite 'no.' "Didn't work out. Too traditional."

"Tlaloc?"

"Promised to Princess Rain."

"Poseidon?"

"Married." Another 'no' pearl skipped across the water, followed by its shell.

"Sobek?"

"Croc-face is so not my type, and I don't speak Egyptian."

"Love is the same in every language!" Cerberus quipped. "Thaumas?"

"_Gross_. His daughter Iris is my age."

"Yue?"

Her eyes lit up.

"Keep dreaming."

"It's hopeless." She suspired woefully.

"It's not, princess," Cherry Blossom said. "True love waits for you out there, and it is up to you to catch it. What better bait to use than your heart?"

Princess Watery clicked her tongue. The selkie dropped his shell and propped himself next to her to listen for instructions. His eyes widened questioningly to her request. She nodded assuring her decision. His fin raised and smacked the back of her head, sending all her oysters snapping into her scalp.

Two tears fell out of her left eye, and at the beginning formation of the third one in her right eye, she motioned Cherry Blossom to come close. Her fins embraced her, and the third tear transferred onto her temple, where it attached to the edge of her left eye. It twinkled and seeped into her skin for her safekeeping.

Watery was, if anything, reliably unpredictable.

…..O…..

The boy looked into the water, unable to make out the blue eyes in the just as blue waters. "I forgive you."

The princess rose from the water. "Have you always known me there?"

He nodded. "I wanted to meet a mermaid, that's why I've been out here visiting daily."

"Why? Are you looking for your princess?"

The paper in his hands was carefully refolded into a small square, small enough to fit into a glass bottle's neck to accompany other small folded pieces of paper. "Why would you think so?" he questioned.

"You're always reading love letters whenever you visit."

"That insinuates a mutual response, of which there is none for these," he said, shaking the bottle. "They are letters sent to me, true, from my hometown. Written requests for me to fulfill if the writer can afford the hefty price."

"You grant wishes, like a genie?"

Another nod. "Most can only afford one."

"Jessie Belle seemed very familiar to you. You've granted her plenty wishes then," she said pointedly.

There was a fiendish and darkly essence to the boy, one Watery could not recognize in the absolute. His answers remained purposely mysterious: "The selkies have plenty of my currency of preference."

She was the Princess. Certainly she could pay any price and make more wishes than the water strumpet Jess. "I'd like a pair of long legs with feet and toes, a set of arms with pretty dainty hands, and a skin suited to both land and waters. _And_ your betrothal to me solely."

He was stricken by her boldness, and then grinned, please with himself. "You're beautiful as you are now."

"You know nothing of me."

"I know you're the youngest of seven sisters, as I am the oldest of seven princes. Likewise, we are the only surviving of our siblings, the _last_ of our respective bloodlines. You are seeking a mate for the continuation of your royal line, but you want more than an heir – you want _love._"

A few yards apart, with the gentle wooshing of water between them and a gathering of seagulls pecking at sand nearby absentmindedly, the distance began to close without neither moving toward the other.

"I want to shed my water pelt and walk on land as I please."

"You do, but not as much as you think."

Her mermaid tail end poked out of the blue in front of her. The imprints produced by tight fitted shellfish were still there, fading achingly slow. She imagined ten tiny toes appearing from under the water, sea droplets sliding down her extended foot to an ankle, a calf, a knobby knee, a muscular thigh. "But feet are so divine, to dance and walk and run… "

"I rather swim with you." He was teasing her, must be.

"I swim deep."

"Drown I shall, if you cannot dance." Ba'al did not shift from his place. A seagull hooted in this direction, a dirty joke in a language Watery understood. The other birds cawed in merriment. She swung a wave in their general direction and sent them off, not before the first bird hooted another filthy encouragement at the boy.

Gritted teeth, she asked, "Why can't you grant me a wish?"

Ba'al rubbed his temple in exasperation. His eyes were a green shade with flecks of gold to make them hazel. It was a color slowly becoming Watery's favorite over its cousin, an amber shade as seen in the eyes of another passing visitor days prior. "You don't have the soul to pay."

Water flowed freely, amorphous, only borrowing shapes of that which may contain it. Water was capricious. Sometimes water was cold as ice, sometime a warm sea, others a vapor on its way to the clouds to join Princess Rain. Water always changed, but love was its constant.

The dark prince stepped into the wet sand, bare toes steeping into the cakey, gritty brown. The salty water brushed the edges of his rolled up dark pants. "I am willing to die for you."

"Go, go and live for Philistine, person or city."

"I'm coming for you." A step deeper into sea. She retracted her seashore, leaving only more wet sand and long, smooth weeds stranded to dry out.

"Try and I will throw you back out."

Today the sea was rough, today she was unforgiven.

…..O…..

A sixth tear fell, followed by its seventh sibling.

A nose prodded her for the second time that day. The princess raised her fin to slap sense into the pestering seal.

He did not wince at the waver of fin, instead presenting a necklace of multi-colored pearls strung on a long strand of Nyk's horsehair.

"You called?"

She allowed the selkie to place the necklace around her neck. The lovely beads were the series of 'yes's and 'no's she castoff previously, the last a peachy one with a white pearly scar was a 'no.'

Calming the water around her enough to look upon it as a blue mirror, she retorted with a defiant and assertive, "Yes."


	6. Princess Rain and the Itsy Bitsy Problem

_Once upon a time there was…_

-|RAIN|-

Where Princess Watery's domain was a strange sea with even stranger deities, Princess Rain's home was a lush rain forest. Cherry Blossom expected… expected, well, she was not sure what to expect. It unquestionably rained endlessly here… as expected, she supposed. It was hot and fat droplets for a few hours, then sprinkle in little cool water specks, and even when it seemed like the air was finally empty and quiet, walking through the still night she could feel a tepid mist cling to her skin.

"Where can we find Rain?" she asked.

Cerberus chewed on the bitter skin of a mango. His prickly canine teeth successfully broke through the sunny colored shell to the stringy, tart meat. Eating the fruit was a messy activity to humans when eaten with hands, even with the aid of a knife. The creature declined her assistance and the blade, deciding he was appropriately equipped by his set of teeny, sharp chompers. Covered in fruit mush and juice, he mumbled a response which sounded something like, "Rain? I thought we were looking for Wood. Rain doesn't live here."

"What! I explicitly stated two days ago, that Princess Rain was our next target."

"'_Our_'? I wasn't made aware we were a team. I'm just tagging along for the random entertainment."

Cherry Blossom crossed her arms and glowered.

"Kidding! If I'm gonna be your partner, you gotta get a better sense of humor, fruit flower."

"And if you want to keep my company, you have to stay clean longer than a day." She lifted him from the scruff of his neck and threw him out of the protection of the banana-leaf awning into the pelting hot rain.

The rain started to fall more heavily but in a more organized fashion in long clear lines. Cerberus shook himself, scrubbing exaggeratedly his underarms with a piece of tree bark, humming a tune. He did a bit of moon-walking, normal walking in the forward direction with a skip to every third step, and then began walking upwards against the rain. The little creature was literally walking on water.

Cherry Blossom's mouth gaped. She rubbed her eyes, just in case some fairy dust had scrambled her vision. Out here, almost anything was about possible. Yesterday, a tree though it funny to extend its roots and trip her, while another one covered her with some sap and a third one shook its head to shower head with tiny purple petals. "How? she asked.

"If you want to go to Princess Rain, you must go upward in the direction in which the water falls." He tilted his chin up, toward sunless sky. Cherry Blossom came out to see for herself. She shielded her eyes and squinted to see through the thick rainfall. The rainforest stretched for near a mile above them, but beyond the trees, dark clouds grumbled. A small glow light broke through haphazardly through the deep grey.

"Fly: Release!" she called out. Wings sprouted from her back, and as she stretched them out on either side of her, she felt the water seep into the feathers, weighing her down. She kneeled down on one knee, steeping into the muddy ground.

"You can't fly under these conditions."

"How else can I get to her?"

"Climb."

"Climb?"

"Climb!"

He scurried further up the angled rain, much like a child would climb a slide up, fighting against the slippery surface.

Cherry Blossom lifted a foot and attempted the feat, succeeding in only kicking the rain in front of her. "I can't. It's impossible."

"Not yet! You must first learn how to rain-walk."

"Is there a class you all take out here for that?"

Cerberus slid down the water stream with ease onto her shoulder. "Of course, once we find you a spider to teach you."

She laughed, returning to the protective leafy shed she built yesterday. The expression on the stuffed animal's face did not have the tell-tale smirk when he told jokes. "You're serious." She tapped her chin. "Spiders. Hmm. Not a fan of bugs. Any bunnies that double as substitute teachers?"

"I'm completely sidestepping your lack of arthropod knowledge, for your even more bizarre commentary. You want to learn how to bake a cake at a time like this?" He shook his little head. "Let's take a break and then we can head out to find one of the Anansi kids to help you."

The girl could only shrug, undecided whether or not she wanted to ask for the taxonomical classification of the 'kids.' She curled on her side, covering herself with the feathery shield of her sodden wings.

Cherry was dreaming of itsy bitsy little legs crawling up on her muddied pant leg, and woke up whimpering like a frightened puppy. She sat up, clamping her knees together with her arms. She breathed slowly and carefully inspected her person for any unwelcome visitors. She was cold and hot all over, shivering and sweating at once. The rain would sicken her before the night ended, if she didn't keep dry.

Her small fur and suede coat was soaked through. She had no blankets, or warm bed. What she needed most was a small fire to fight the cold that rose with every passing hour of the night. The wood chips surrounding them were too wet to do her any good, so she prepared to go into the rain one more time to search for dry chips or rotted wood, leaving her knife behind to not upset the sleeping trees. She retracted the Fly blessing into her necklace.

Not far from their site, fire smoke pushed against the rainfall. Someone had succeeded in starting a fire, and most importantly, keeping it burning in these conditions. Cherry Blossom shook her companion slightly to wake him. He groaned and turned away from her to continue his sleep.

"Fine, stay." Taking chances on the unknown was becoming a habit, so why not continue living dangerously?

…..O…..

The sound and smoky scent of dead wood crackling under the heart of the flames was a welcoming respite from the wet and dripping background of rainforest. From the distance, there appeared to be a force field keeping the water at bay. At a mere foot away, Cherry could see that a translucent silky dome kept the fire waterproofed. It wasn't as clear, plastic or glass dome-like structure; upon closer investigation, she noted the complex embroidery pattern filling almost every space. The few scattered open regions near the top, allowed for smoke to plume out without letting water drops sneak in. In the silk were roses embroidered in honeycombs, encircled by long leafs and endless stems which splayed across to other silk bouquets. Cherry would expect this kind of workmanship from a seasoned team of grandmothers with slender, long needles in their equally thin frail but skilled fingers.

In her mind, grandmothers were peculiar little people who baked oatmeal and cinnamon cookies and doted on their grandchildren. Wouldn't it be nice if she had a grandmother waiting on the other side of the wall, whose arms would welcome her in a night like this? Feed her a home-cooked meal and tell her when she woke up again, she'd be back at home – wherever home really was.

A rustle startled her. She crouched in the darker region outside the silk bubble. Itsy bitsy voices and numerous pairs of little feet scattered across dry floor and round the radiating light of the hearth.

_Spiders! _She had trespassed the webs of a family of spiders. The only needles likely awaiting her on the other side of the silk were the shish kebab type to roast her over the flames, next to s'mores and a pan of searing, lightly salted and buttered flies. Panic set in, and at recalling her hands pressed against the spiderweb, her body fell back. The smooth lines and bumpy surfaces of the roses turned glue in consistency, sticky goo pulling her back up against the death-trap she walked herself into minutes ago.

The voices grew excited, many blending together in mindless chatter. A deep, thunder-deep one silenced them all, and Cherry's struggles subdued in fear. Cherry Blossom pulled some of the silk webbing apart, large enough for her face to fit inside, not that she would so, and listen to the commanding speaker.

Around the fireplace a Great Spider seated itself along with at least twenty smaller spiders.

"A good story," the Great Spider began, "is founded on good characterization and plot. Pretty words and melodrama may suit your Shakespearean-esque tragedies on stage, but remember, there was only one Shakespeare and his finality did not leave an open slot to pretenders. Mira, I'm looking at you."

A spiky, gray spider raised a limb. The Great Spider pointed to it. "Uncle Anansi, mother says a good storyteller needs only buy the talent from the pretty rain maiden."

"Your mother fills your head with hodgepodge. I paid the Sky a hefty fine: a python, leopard, family of hornets, and a dwarf for my storytelling, taken from me wrongfully by the envious macaws. Princess Rain only provided some assistance with a downpour to trick the hornets into the calabash."

Another spider spoke, without permission, hastily, "So you admit, Uncle, that being silver-tongued alone is insufficient to ensnare the prey with only our words?"

Anansi griped, "This is my lecture, Histoire – I speak unless you are called upon!"

"A story!" another one said, ignoring the griping. The lot raised two limbs each, shaking them excitedly in the affirmative, mumbling comments in support of their famed relative sharing one of his tales.

The great spider declined the attention. "We are gathered tonight to work on all of your stories." He mentally eeny-meeny-mighty-moe'd his peers and pointed expectantly to his youngest niece, Maryline Suzette, or Tiny Sue as her cousins had nicknamed her. "You – start!"

She cleared her voice and started, "There was once a young girl in a far foreign land. Her eyes were a pair of emerald, no _jade_, shining orbs. It was her most distinctive feature, followed by her auburn-chocolate hair and tanned-brown, porcelain skin. She was in love with a boy who physically was the epitome of handsomeness and she was not immune to his godly good looks, especially his amber-topaz-honey… orbs-"

A spider snickered. Another interrupted, "Humans don't have orbs for eyes. They only have color in the iris region of their peepers. And is her hair made of chocolate? How can tanned skin be like porcelain? Do not get me started on those second set of orbs…"

"Uncle!" Little Sue cried. "I haven't finished my story."

Anansi shushed the group. "There will be time for _constructive criticism _at the conclusion." He turned to her. "Please continue, Suzette."

"Her name was _Nikki_. She had a magical deck of cards which controlled forces of nature and some which satisfied human quirks like cleanliness and sweet teeth. This boy, the object of her displaced affection, his name was… was…"

Cherry Blossom sneezed. The spiders turned in unison to her horrified disposition.

"Bless you," Anansi said. The great spider was covered with thick dark fur, and she wanted to believe that it probably was like a large cat, a feral and more frightening looking one than its domesticated counterpart.

Then she remembered she wasn't a cat person. Not that the feline species was an unfavorable line of animals to keep as pets, but a lifetime of allergies and recent nightmares involving green-eyed, winged panthers did not sit well with her.

She screamed. The smaller, furry spiders gathered around her, crawling up her knock-kneed legs. Expectedly, she fell into unconsciousness, not by impact, for her body was slowly eased to the floor by skilled webbers and many careful limbs.

She dreamed of two large glowing jade orbs, boring into her soul with their intensity, from the darkness, where more spiders with hundreds of teeny red eyes awaited.

…..O…..

Voices sung brightly, filling the air with an imperfect chorus:

_"__The Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the water spout._

_Down came the rain, and washed poor incy out._

_Out came the sun, and dried up all the rain_

_And then Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the spout again."_

A voice strayed, another jumped too early into the next line, and a third one was naught heard throughout the song. Coincidentally, hand motions corresponding to the song, where hands mimicked the climbing spider, rain, and the climactic fall was lacking from the region where one voice went missing.

Mr. Reed approached the young, hesitant singer. "Miss Kinomoto?"

The girl closed the flimsy songbook and tucked it into her pink backpack, to be nestled in between the The Clow and a spiral notebook with doodles on its cover of a winged teddy bear. Her eyes moved upward but could not meet her teacher's, so they settled on his argyle tie of varying blues. "Yes, Mr. Reed?"

"You didn't sing - are you feeling well?"

"I'm okay." It was a lie, the biggest one she'd told all week. The truth would come out sooner or later, and she might as well let it out before the bitter seed of its secret grew and consumed her from the inside. "I'm scared of bugs."

"Oh?"

"They have too many legs… or not enough."

"The incy wincy spider is more scared of you than you are of him or her. We shouldn't judge something for how many limbs it has. What would the spider would think of your two arms and two legs?"

She mulled it over for a few seconds. "Probably ask what happened to my other half?"

Mr. Reed patted her head. "There are bigger things to be afraid of in this world. Just ask the spiders." His well-dressed torso left her view.

By recess, her secret was common knowledge to the rest of the pre-schoolers. Meiling Li was the culprit, the watchful ruby-eyed little schemer waiting for Sakura to inadvertently reveal a weakness. Her eyes glowed red, undoubtedly evil, as she whispered to little ears about a certain preschooler's arachnophobia, entomophobia, and acarophobia. Not in those technical terms, as Eriol nicely explained to her, but in biting remarks regarding silly bug-fears and spidery gestures made with sly hands.

Spinel and Nakuru followed with fat monarch caterpillars. They had meant well, explaining how beautiful the disgusting things would be one day - like little ugly ducklings, waiting for their biological makeover. The yellow, black, and white striped scheme of the insects reminded her so much of bees, a terrible coincidence, causing her to nearly shrieked when Spinel brought his closer. The siblings left her be but not before calling her rude and strange.

Tomoyo's absence that day made it all the worse, for she was truly alone with her paranoia as her unwanted, persistent company.

She gazed upwards at the apples dangling on the many-branched tree, mindlessly munching on the lunch her father packed her that morning. A voice called her back to reality, where she did not need to wonder how many apples contained a worm slowly enjoying their lunch just as she was.

"Here." Syaoran joined her, seating himself alongside her without invitation. Not far, his cousin glared and pouted with their shared lunch box.

The mysterious boy opened his palm, revealing a ladybug, red and speckled with black dots, three on one its left wing and four on its right. "Not all of them are bad." He inches the tiny guest forward with an index finger onto his thumb. "If it helps, you can't think of something else climbing up that water spout."

"Like what?"

_"Itsy, bitsy Kinomoto climbing up the water-"_ He flattens the hand with the ladybug prissily positioned on the nail bed of his thumb. The other formed a peace sign with the index and middle, moving to-and-fro, so that they skated over the vertical wall of his other hand.

It was herself, making that ostensibly long climb. "Syaoran-kun, you can call me Sakura."

"_Down came the rain…"_

She listened to his song, noting how lovely it was to be serenated by someone who could chase one of her fears away.

…..O…..

An hour after Cherry Blossom woke she was climbing ruthlessly, interchanging between skating and power-rain-walking.

The ascent required both mental and physical stamina. Her natural athleticism covered the physical endurance but her mind was slipping, and along, her footing on the slick rain every so often.

Twenty-something tiny voices called out from around her, climbing their own raindrops and filling her head with twenty-something different stories.

Cerberus soon caught up, having sighted her making her awkward steps mid-sky. "You learned quick," he commented.

Her lips moved silently, speaking inaudibly to herself.

"What?" Cerberus asked.

She gave him a hissy "shhh," and resumed her enigmatic mouthing.

"_Oh_!" He slowed down to her pace. "You should speak up, so I and _others," _he said with a wink, "can hear your story."

She smiled and began as loud as she could, "Princess Rain welcomed her honored guests with open sky and sunshine. She was no longer alone in her gray, stormy clouds. She had friends, friends who weren't afraid of the climb, who weren't afraid of the stories they heard of her…"

The rainwater scattered in the air halted, remaining suspended in their place.

Cherry Blossom continued, "Friends who she did not earn through exchanges and bartering with ambitious spiders… friends who were forever and best."

A young sprite popped its head out of a smaller cloud above them, wearing an oversized jester hat and a large teardropped jewel around her small neck. She waited for their arrival with a welcoming smile.

When the last spider made its way onto a guest cloud, the sun came out, but not before the Princess awarded her favorite storyteller with one of the smaller jewel droplet from her jester hat to rein.

Cherry Blossom promised, when she reigned, to make it pour.


End file.
